


Felt Feels Feelings

by hazelandglasz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Artist Derek Hale, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 05:30:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3315962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: i’m in love with your crafts in your etsy shop and i’m also in love with you au - for sterek *w*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Felt Feels Feelings

It’s becoming worrisome.

Stiles wouldn’t call it an addiction, because, no, he can’t get addicted to cute felt brooches that he has no intention of ever wearing they just look decorative now can he, but still.

It is … rather alarming, the amount of little brooches on his shelves.

Also … unsettling is the fact that the [little etsy shop](https://www.etsy.com/fr/shop/UrbanOwls?ref=shopsection_shophome_leftnav) is the first thing that comes up whenever he types the letter “e” in the search bar.

But it’s just so cute, and look at the details of the embroidery!

Yes, Stiles knows words like embroidery and felt and spool, thank you very much.

* * *

 

Oh, a new one--Stiles had not seen the little [wolf ](https://img1.etsystatic.com/000/0/6653157/il_570xN.325600333.jpg)with the blue ribbon around its neck, it’s actually perfect.

Just as Stiles checks his credit card to make sure that he has it right, his phone pings with a new tweet by Patch-and-Felt, and Stiles is very glad to be alone right this moment, so he can make all the embarrassing noises in the world.

Patch-and-Felt is the handle of the Etsy shop’s artist on Twitter, and not only does he post pictures of his works in progress, but he also posts selfies.

Full honesty here?

Stiles has more than a little crush on the man and his hands.

His strong fingers handling the little patches of felt and the needles and creating magical fluff that Stiles would love to see creating a different kind of magic that would have to do with his body.

Without the needle.

Yes, Stiles may have a massive crush on a guy whom he only knows the hands--not unusual or weird at all.

With a sigh, Stiles takes his phone out of his pocket--he’s multitasking like crazy, since he’s also typing his credit card number to finalize his purchase--to read the tweet; who knows, he might get more documentation for his spank bank!

 

  


 

Nope, that’s even better.

“Oh my God,” Stiles breathes, his eyes darting from his phone to his screen, where the purchase has just been confirmed. “Oh my freakin’ God.”

He then proceeds to jump out of his chair, picking up his various felt friends to scream into their soft bellies around the room.

Stiles doesn’t even know what it entails, but any special prize ditched by Magical Felt Hands is a gift, a blessing.

Stiles will take whatever he can get, to be honest.

\---

… *Ping*

*Ping*

*Ping*

Aaaand *ping*.

Good.

Derek rolls his shoulders at his work table, where the pieces of felt and the threads are covering the surface while he assembles them to create more soft trinkets. “Cora,” he calls, adjusting his lamp, “there has been 10 purchases on the store!”

His sister and shop manager shouts happily from her office/bedroom and comes skipping in his workshop/bedroom.

“Whatcha doin’?” she asks, sitting on the edge of his table like she knows he hates.

“Working, Cora. You know? The thing I give you a percentage of my hard work to do?” In your own room, he adds in the privacy--and safety--of his mind.

“I’m working too, dear brortist,” Cora replies, picking up an abandoned piece of fabric. “Just checking that you are free on Wednesday.”

Derek nods, frowning as the needle doesn’t get in, pushing it delicately until the fabric yields to the pressure.

“Good. Then you’ll be able to have a little workshop for 10 of your clients. See ya!”

Derek nods again before the words actually register.

“Wait what?”

\---

 

  


 

This time, Stiles doesn’t bother smothering his scream into a fluffy figurine.

\---

Derek doesn’t want to do it.

He doesn’t want to meet these people, he doesn’t want to let them in, he doesn’t want to have to interact with them at all.

Hello, online store for a good reason.

But maybe if he asks like a true grumpy hermit, they will leave early?

“Derek, don’t you dare scaring them away.”

Damn Cora for knowing him too well.

“You’re fired.”

Cora laughs as she arranges his shirt. “You’d be back to square one without me, oh brother.”

Derek grumphs in lieu of answer, and rumples his shirt back [to the way it was](http://i.imgur.com/UXefzeWl.jpg), out of his pants.

“Welcome, welcome,” Cora calls, leaning against the door as she lets five strangers into their house--what a bad, bad idea.

Seriously, Derek doesn’t see how this is going to hel--

Hold the phone.

The last guy to enter is seriously cute.

With his bright eyes and his little, round nose and his long fingers that look like they could know their way around a needle--or other long objects that make Derek very happy.

And wow, the way his eyes widen as they land on Derek’s hands, to slowly climb up his arms to finally look at him in the eyes.

How can a look be adorable and sexy at the same time, Derek doesn’t know, but he finds himself drawn to the Stranger.

“Hello, and welcome to Patch and Felt,” he says softly, offering his hand to shake.

“Oh wow,dude,” the man says, “you’re Derek Hale. I’m Stiles, Stiles Stilinski,” he babbles on, shaking Derek’s hand--strong grip, warm and dry hands, it’s too good to be true-- “and I can’t even tell you how much I love you.”

A pause.

“I mean, how much I love your products, oh shit, why isn’t the floor swallowing me...”

Derek starts smiling without even realizing that he hasn’t let go of Stiles’ hand.

“Wanna see the workshop?”

“I’d love to.”

It only takes Stiles one question about Derek’s preference for gauge triangle blades over star blades for Derek to lean over the table to kiss him.

Don’t ask him what took over.

All he knows is that Stiles kisses back rather enthusiastically, joining him on his side of the table before pulling his face away, but not his arms. “No but seriously, triangle or stars?”

“I’ll show you stars,” Derek growls before wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist for another deep kiss.

((They have to pause for a moment when Stiles starts giggling because of a piece of felt that has slided down his jeans and that tickles him, but it’s really momentary))


End file.
